Snippet #2558137

Locke had been busy strolling down the back alleys. His eyes so careful to seek anyone else that could possibly be trying to hunt him down. Today had been an entirely different kind of a day. He had pulled off a great con, stumbled onto an ideal target, and even got saved by a paladin. Far more hectic than the thief preferred but he could not complain. He was escaping with a large sum of Akeli and even if he was forced to go into hiding for a time, it wasn’t honestly much more than an unfortunate nuisance. He offered a lofty sigh, his feet trampling over compacted dirt-

Gray and brown and the sound of his own voice mixing with another, Locke grunted with discomfort as another body smashed into his. The two tumbled wildly down but to his surprise the runner caught their feet and hurried off deeper into the maze of Valexia. The long muddy browns of the perpetrator’s cloaks flowed out almost like wings catching the wind, whoever this was, and whatever their reasoning, they were off to somewhere in a great panic. Lock strained his eyes to veer at whoever tripped him up, and though the brown cloak’s head was half-turned looking back as it fled, there just wasn’t enough time to distinguish anything before they were gone.

Locke hopped to his feet dusting his pants of the dirt, his fingers gliding over the contents on his belt. Nothing was missing near as he could tell, but he pieced a bit of the puzzle together when he shifted his stance, for his foot touched something alien. A satchel was at his feet, well worn, but crafted with expert hands. It didn’t take the urchin very long to realize that its craftsmanship alone gave it value. Maybe the goddess was smiling on him today after all. With a bit of glee he snatched up the lovely item its heft and weight telling him there was more inside.

“Hmmm now what have we here?”

The ends of his fingertips dug without hesitation but it was his eyes that surrendered all his thoughts. The golden orbs widened with such shock, and his jaw fell loose as he touched what was within. Quickly and violently he closed the satchel, his gaze darting wildly around almost in panic. Could it be? Was it true, had the goddess herself blessed him with such a prize? His heart was racing and he was stricken with fear, bliss, and anxiety. The runner couldn’t have possibly known what they had, or else they would have stayed and fought. No, Locke knew this had come to him through happenstance.

Somebody would be looking for it though. Worse still there were at least a dozen sellswords also seeking it. A thousand bloodied hands alone in the city would gut him if they had any idea what he possessed, and even gentle folk would stab at him if they knew. This was indeed a dangerous item to carry, and it made Locke uneasy. Yet, there was happiness, the reward, the praise; he could retire at long last. He just had to get this thing back where it belonged and who else but Locke could do it? He actually smiled broadly and laughed from his own dumb luck.

All of that changed immediately when he saw Ilana with Mariette in tow. He pieced everything together before they could even reach him. Of course, it all made so much sense. That strange rich girl lurking in the shadows of Valexia where she didn’t belong, the Paladin was her protector then? To be honest he wasn’t sure entirely what Illana’s purpose was. Still he knew the satchel in his hands belonged to one of them. The way they were running, the sort of desperate fear that clung in the younger girl’s features, she had been scared.

He masked his knowledge. Instead he looked just as confused as they must have been. They couldn’t know that he knew. If it was just Mariette he would have had no trouble taking the ultimate prize from her, but with Ilana the game changed. He would have to use cunning, wait, steal it out from under them when they least expected. He offered a warm grin, as friends might meet another with.

“Well, it would appear the goddess is determined that our paths cross. I’m afraid you missed the thief; they were a tad clumsy and dropped this after our collision,” he mused as he lifted the satchel.

“I’ve heard it said that a man should never examine the contents of a woman’s belongings, so perhaps I’ll forget seeing what’s inside in light of the circumstance.”

He offered Mariette’s belongings without pause, and with as polite a manner as he could.